The Gray Folk
by Mask of Sliske
Summary: When a young Galadhrim fell asleep on watch, he didn't expect to be where he managed to wake up. After fighting off dragons, undead, mages, and unwanted love interests. All he wants to do is bathe and have a drink. Unfortunately, it seems that fate has a tendency of getting in the way of plans, drawing the reluctant elf into all sorts of adventure.
1. Chapter 1: An Awakening

Disclaimer: I don't own LotR or the Elder Scrolls series. No matter how much I want to. Or anything that I mention that has an owner other than myself. So obviously I'm not making money from this.

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I still don't know how I ended up in this situation. One moment, I was taking a nap on a surprisingly comfortable tree branch. Yes, it might have been on my watch, so silence yourself! Anyway, I managed to find myself in a rather strange situation. Well, I woke up in a place that isn't Lorien, for one. The trees were all wrong. That alone caused me to tighten my guard. The second thing in this whole debacle, my weapons were still on my person. Sword, daggers, bow and all. Quite bizarre indeed.

Hearing someone yell an order, I slowly slink my way over to the source, hand on my sword blade. There were strange looking men in a sort of leather armour confronting some tall dwarves. From the looks of it, the dwarves were surrendering and are being taken captive.

Before I could move closer to further examine them, a twig snapped directly behind me. Unfortunately, the cause of the sound swiftly wrapped an arm around me, trapping my arms and covering my mouth. Within a heartbeat, I leapt into action, stomping on my attacker's foot. Using the time given to me, I pulled my head forward and slammed backwards, cracking their nose. With an elbow to the stomach, I was free.

I better not have any blood in my hair, I swear to Eru. It's hard enough to keep it immaculate with it being white-gold in colour, but getting blood in it? I shudder at the thought.

My luck seems to have evaporated, as the leather clad humans heard the confrontation and a few were sent my way. Some tried to charge, a quick dodge to the side caused them to miss. Amusingly this caused the clumsy mortals to collide with one another. Distracted by the direct assault, I, unfortunately, didn't bother to pay attention to any ranged attacks. Admittedly, it was mostly an underestimation of my current foes, as they didn't have any bows. Before I knew it, a sort of projectile was fired at me. Once it hit, I seized up from the strange force and fell over. Struggling against the magical bindings, I heard the humans approach my rigid, squirming self. Ugh, I'm getting leaves and twigs in my hair. What a way to start my day.

"What do you want us to do with him, Commander?" One of the men queried uncertainly. How curious, they spoke a sort of Westeron that I haven't heard before. Slightly stilling my struggle, I focused on my captors' words.

"Bring him with the others. We'll let General Tullius deal with this... elf." An authoritative sounding man decided with a sort of venomous tone in his command. Looks like someone doesn't like the elder folk. This does not bode well for me.

The underlings roughly pulled me up, grasping me by my pinned arms. One of the men unequipped my armaments before I was dragged along. Trying to glance around with great difficulty, I took note of an apologetic looking armoured figure standing near. A woman stood there in leather with a strange swirling essence in her hand. From the look on her face, she felt sorry for her actions against me.

Slowly and painfully, I was dragged to a sort of convoy of waggons. Roughly I was shoved and seated in the between two of my captors. The woman from before sat across from me, applying her strange magic every time I felt its effects slipping. This lasted for at least two hours of agonising humiliation. I was stuck between two severely unwashed men, bound by magic, and stripped of my weaponry. How far I have fallen.

Soon the smell of smoke and more of those stench-smothered humans managed to reach my delicate nose. A human village? Divine. Eventually, I could see the settlement as the cart began turning on the road. It had pale stone walls with wood topping the battlements, shading the guards that patrol its stretch. How am I going to get out of this?

Our cart slowly veered off of the road to roll to a stop next to the glorified rocky fence. The mage woman stopped casting her binding spell after we were in sight of the town. I was able to slowly move but was too debilitated to fight my way out for a while. The two men stationed at my sides rose to disembark the transport, dragging me with them. At least they are allowing me to use my legs now. Slowly, I was led into the village. To my disgust, the smell was greater after entering somehow.

Once I noticed our pace slowing, I glanced in front of me. A stern looking old man in strange armour perched on a horse next to a golden-skinned female elf. The man, I suspect, was a good deal shorter than myself, yet commanded the respect of the men around me. The she-elf looked quite upset, yet gazed upon me with interest. She grasped the reigns of her horse as she announced her departure in a haughty tone. The old man huffed slightly in victory before turning toward our entourage.

"So, who is this, Legate?" The man demanded from the leader of my captors. The 'Legate' answered him swiftly, merely stating that I was a sort of elf scout that was skulking about when they captured a man named Ulfric Stormcloak. He continued on with saying that I was deemed suspicious and they have confiscated my weaponry and escorted me here.

"Well? I'll have a look at his sword." General Tullius commanded. His name I learnt from the Legate in his explanation of my presence. A soldier presented my elven longsword to the man. Grasping it, General Tullius marvelled at the craftsmanship before looking up at me.

"I suggest you unhand him. I require to question him for a moment while the headsman is preparing for the others." The general demanded. Immediately the hands grasping my arms dropped and the men stepped away. Swiftly, I readjusted my clothing and ran my fingers through my hair. A bath is required to remove all the filth from it, but I will make do. Standing to my full height of six and a half feet, I scowled back at the general and crossed my arms. A curious gleam in my eyes.

"Just who are you, elf?" Was the first question the man asked.

"I am Linduin, a Marchwarden of Lorien. And you are?" I answered and countered. The general seemed to think for a moment before ever so graciously giving me an answer.

"General Tullius, commander of the Imperial army in Skyrim." This made me raise an eyebrow in response.

"Imperial army? Skyrim?" I asked in disbelief. General Tullius frowned deeper at my tone if that was even possible. One of the soldiers blurted out in a fit of rage about my being 'damn disrespectful'. His cries were swiftly silenced with a dark look from Tullius.

"I can tell you aren't from Tamriel, elf. Or even Nirn for that matter." Well, I thought that was quite obvious, based on the look on your face when you first saw my face.

"Can I trust you to not stab me in the back if I returned your blades and bow to you, elf?" The old general questioned. Looks like he will let me go free after all, it seems.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting." Someone called out, breaking the conversation. Tullius huffed impatiently and turned back to me before ushering for me to follow him. Slipping my blade back into my belt and my bow secured onto my back, I made my way to follow him.

The two of us strode towards those dwarf-like captives from before, stopping when the general arrived in front of a gagged blond dwarf-man. A smirk was easily seen before General Tullius began antagonising the man.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." How droll, men killing other men for power. Typical. All this 'Ulfric' man could do is swear at the man, muffled by the gag.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." The general declared, feeling victorious. Some of which faded slightly when an eerie roar was heard in the distance. My stomach fell like a rock. I know exactly what could make that sound. Quickly I placed a hand on my blade, tensing in anticipation.

"What was that?" Someone asked, "It's nothing. Carry on." General Tullius replied, looking uneasy and tense. The execution proceeded once Tullius gave the order. A captain turned to what looked like some kind of priest and called for her to give the prisoners their last rites before death. This was the part where I began to get bored and tuned out most of the proceeding. A redheaded captive seemed to be impatient.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." He demanded. The priest looked rightfully miffed and scowled at him. The redhead walked up to the block and mocked the Imperial soldiers for 'wasting his time'.

The sound of a big axe colliding with the man's neck brought my attention back to the event. There was quite a bit of blood everywhere when I looked back. Grand, this might actually be an interesting ordeal. A few words were tossed back and forth from the prisoners and the village spectators.

Not much attention was paid to the situation until I heard that roar once again. Some of the villagers were getting uneasy, one even cursed in question of the sound.

"Sentries! What do you see?" The Imperial captain demanded, looking disgruntled and on edge. That didn't last very long when a large black dragon flew to a turret and perched itself. It made a loud roar that caused the sky to crackle and clouds to appear thick and swirling above the town. Balls of fire began raining down from the heavens and everyone began fearing for their lives. The general was up in arms, commanding his soldiers with earnest.

Looking down at my sword, I remember that most weaponry was virtually useless against the dreaded Smaug. Cursing in my mother language, I pulled out my bow and notched an arrow. Before I could fire upon it, it roared at me strangely. That roar produced a force that flung me to the ground, causing my arrow to embed itself into the wall of the tower instead. As I lied there and looked up at the beast, its red eyes flashed at me in a challenge. Quickly I notched another arrow and aimed for its glowing, demonic eyes. Unfortunately, I missed when it suddenly flew off of the tower to wreak havoc on the town, breathing fire and ripping soldiers and townspeople apart.

Arrow after arrow, I notice that no matter what we throw at it, it doesn't even wince or anything. Then I realised that the battlemages were using fire.

"What are you idiots doing?! It's a fire drake, fire it useless against it!" I yelled to them, notching another arrow, aiming for the wing. The mages took my advice with some hesitation, not willing to fully trust a total stranger. They only considered my words for one reason; General Tullius trusted me enough to allowed me to keep my weapons. From the looks of it, they noticed that the ice didn't get completely absorbed by the dragon's scales. With a smile at their cooperation, I unleashed my arrow. To my joy, it managed to hit an ice patch, piercing the wing. Yet to my horror, it landed only to grab a man in its jaws and fling him around. Just as swift as it landed, the dragon flew up to the skies again.

"Come on, elf. We need to change positions to take that beast down!" Tullius hollered to me, running off with a sword in hand for me to follow. With no hesitation, I chased the old man. The battlemages, and archers trailing behind us.

There it was, the dragon perched on the stony battlements, glaring down at us. I was about to notch an arrow when I noticed it was breathing in deeply. Tensing up, readying myself for its fire. When it hastened its inhale, I quickly ordered the battlemages to get out of the way.

Noticing that the General was still in the dragon's path of breath. Running at him, I pushed him out of the way, fire igniting my dark gray cloak's tail. Letting go of the man, I quickly pat out the flames. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the dragon take off and fly away from the town towards the mountains.

"Good work, you managed to knock the breath out of an old man." General Tullius wheezed out with a hand on his chest.

"Better than being burned alive. You didn't notice it was about to breathe, did you?" I asked the man. He deepened his frown and slowly shook his head.

"You've dealt with dragons before, elf?" Tullius suspiciously questioned. Freezing, I turned back to him and nervously chuckled.

"I suppose I should have mentioned it earlier. One thing I did notice was that this one's fire is nowhere near as hot as the one I have fought." This drew the General's attention. His gaze trying to appraise my usefulness.

"You should join the Imperial army. We could use someone like you against this threat. Especially if this is merely the beginning of the dragon attacks." Join an army of man? What sort of mess did I drop into?

"I'll think about it." This answer seemed to satisfy the old general. Picking myself off the ground, I offered my hand to assist him. Begrudgingly, he took it with a grumpy huff. The soldiers ran back towards us when they noticed the coast was clear. Unsurprisingly I was bombarded with questions and their newly appreciative musings.

"That was amazing!"

"How did you know it was going to breathe fire?"

"Such bravery!"

As nice as the comments were, I noticed the question and brooded on it for a moment before answering.

"Where I came from, dragons still roamed. Albeit, they were rare and very powerful." From the looks of it, their views of me heightened. Soon I was swarmed with questions and declarations that I must be a hero of some sort, like the old legends. It all quieted down when General Tullius cleared his throat. He then turned to me with intent.

"My soldiers and I have to return to Solitude, the capital of Skyrim. I need you to deliver a message to Whiterun, the city that the dragon likely is going to target next." He explained to me, eyes split between demanding and begging.

With a barely noticeable huff of annoyance, I accepted. He did allow me to go free, after all. This sort of trust shouldn't be squandered on my being too prideful. As much as I despise being ordered around, it would be a nice thought to perhaps have an entire city from this beast. Yes, that is definitely going to be the story behind the ballads written of this moment. Heh.

Taking a map that one of the soldiers offered, he pointed out the path that I was supposed to take. He looked back up at me and whispered a plea to give a message to his uncle, Alvor. The soldier introduced himself as Hadvar. He apparently just wanted to make sure his uncle wasn't worrying about him. After receiving a rather detailed description of his uncle, Hadvar pulled away with a faint smile.

"Good luck, I just hope there aren't going to be more dragon attacks," Hadvar said quietly before running to join the other soldiers. After a short while, I gazed at the map to study my path. There wasn't much to it. Only one town between here and Whiterun, Riverwood. Ideally, this would be where I would stop for the night. Mostly to deliver the message, then gather supplies to travel to Whiterun. Sounds rather straightforward, actually. Wouldn't be surprised if I get attacked or something on the way, normally how it goes. With a sigh, I slowly made my way down the cobbled road, adjusting my belonging into a comfortable position as I strode toward the next town.

As fate would have it, I managed to encounter not just one, but two packs of wolves. Not to mention a camp full of bandits that decided I was easy prey. Oh, and I got stopped by some catlike thing trying to sell me some sort of illicit substance. Each and every time I cut them down with my elvish blade without hesitation. Funnily enough, the drugs they tried selling me smelt like a mixture of sugar and something utterly awful. My guess is that it is a drink for stamina and to get inebriated with. Skooma is what the cat called it. May as well throw it in the bushes for someone else to find. It is useless to me.

The gates of Riverwood were in sight, the wood stood strong and bleached from the sun's rays. This town isn't very old in fact, a few decades perhaps. Maybe a hundred years. Maybe. Striding through the gates, I could tell that a few people of man were displeased with my presence. Clearly, they were not fond of elves. Undeterred, I sauntered over to the blacksmith shop, a stout and muscular man was hammering away at what appeared to be a rather crude blade.

"I am here to deliver a message, from a soldier named Hadvar," I announced politely. The smithy looked up in surprise, hope shining in his eyes.

"Is he alright?" Alvor the Blacksmith asked, pleadingly. I nodded affirmatively, smiling slightly. The man looked relieved and continued with his sword making. He only slowed when I asked him about where I may obtain supplies.

"Riverwood Trader is where you want to go. It's run by an imperial named Lucan. He should have what you need." With that said, he turned back to his smithing, a smile on his face all the while. Looks like it was left to me to find the store, shouldn't be too hard.

The town was rather small after all. I was quite correct in saying that it wasn't hard to find it. The only problem was the shopkeeper was a fair bit distracted. Raving on about how his treasured dragon claw was stolen. Pure gold it was, he said. Sounds rather preposterous to me. Does make an ellon curious, however.

"I might be able to assist, Shopkeeper," I announced suddenly. This made the tanned man turn to me, hope clearly shone in his eyes. However, he was slightly suspicious as he didn't hear my entrance. That or because I'm an elf. Either or really.

"All I ask in return is some supplies to get to Whiterun. I have to deliver a message to the leader there about the dragon attack. The one in the town of Helgen." I continued, trying to be polite amidst all the apparent dislike of my kind. What have they done to deserve such hatred? We're not the race that blatantly wars with each other. Don't try to count the Kinslaying. That was one event far in the past. Not even one involving my ancestors either. Hah.

The man was still quite weary of me as he gave me the description and location of the claw. Some dingy crypt called 'Bleak Falls Barrow' was where the bandits were camping out. It was up in the mountains overlooking the town, its river, and the surrounding wilderness. It is as good of a place as any for some brigands to set up shop.

"I could show him the way." A woman offered. The tanned woman looked similar to Lucan and sat near him as the man ranted. She glanced over at me in admiration for a moment before turning back to Lucan. Finally, some mild respect, even if the intent was probably sexual. The shopkeeper sputtered and told her that she was to do no such thing. Trouble in paradise, it seems. I didn't hear the rest of the argument as I slipped out the door silently and made way towards the mountain in the dimming evening light.

"Brother elf! Are you just passing through, or are you helping Lucan?" A voice called out to me in a question. Turning my head sidewards, I spotted a tan skinned elf with pale hair and dark brown eyes. He was noticeably short and slight with a bow slung on his back. What a strange looking elf, this one. I was slow to reply in Sindarin that I certainly was. He looked excited and slightly confused.

"Would you like help?" He asked in kind of Elvish. It was a little difficult to understand. The dialect he was using was fairly strange, same with the accent. It took me a moment to decipher his words. After learning his intent, I motioned for him to follow me. He was quick to do so, practically hopping with each step he took.

"So what is your name? Where are you from?" The tanned elf asked cheerfully in the Common Tongue. I mused over his words for a moment.

"I am Linduin. A Marchwarden of the Golden Wood, Lorien." I remarked proudly. The other elf looked up at me with a fair bit of interest and a smile.

"My name is Faendal. I've lived in Riverwood for a few years now. Managed to get a job at the mill." My newly-named elf companion chattered, catching up with my long strides.

"Since you said you're from the 'Golden Wood', I'm guessing you're some kind of Bosmer?" This made me stop. Looking towards my tanned companion in confusion, I silently asked for an explanation.

"What in the name of the Valar is a Bosmer? I'm am a Sindar." I huffed at the unintentional strike to my ego. Again Faendal looked confused and a little apologetic, babbling on about how he didn't know and that he never saw an elf like myself before. Raising my hand to pause his apologies, I grimly smiled at him.

"Do not fret, Faendal. I am nearly certain that my kin haven't been seen in this realm before." He seemed to relax slightly. Looking back up to me, the small elf tried to explain what a Bosmer was, and why he confused me for one.

"So that means 'wood elf', huh? If we were back in my home realm, then you would be a Sylvan. No, the Sindar are not Wood Elves necessarily. We are spread across different lands." I grandiosely explained, dramatically gesturing with my hands as I spoke. Old habits die hard, it seems.

Faendal kept walking silently for a moment. Clearly thinking on what other questions he would ask. We walked in silence for a while up the mountainside until a single, frozen tower came into view. From what I could see, ragged looking men and women were inhabiting the structure. Bandits, most likely.

Immediately, I crouched and motioned Faendal to do the same. He looked towards me curiously as I slowly notched an arrow. More likely than not, they will be hostile. Better safe than sorry. Pulling back the string all the way to my cheek, I slowly let out my breath, my arrow following it shortly. Within a second, a bandit's inner light was quickly snuffed out as my arrow embedded itself into his eye socket. Faendal glanced between me and the fallen bandit in wonder.

"Nice shot!" He whispered in congratulation, grinning wildly. Again I notched an arrow, as the fallen bandit's comrades went to where he died. They were alarmed and tried to search around for his killer. Again my arrow flew, and again it buried itself into my mark, killing them instantly. More bandits appeared, more alarmed and fearful. Knowing they were being stalked by a hunter in the dusk. Some of the male bandits grew more aggressive, trying to taunt me out of hiding. As a Galadhrim, I knew how to play this game. Simply draw them out and pick them off from a distance.

Eventually, they started to figure out where the arrows were coming from. Unfortunately for them, their numbers were fewer than before. Much less of a threat than when Faendal and I stumbled upon them. A male bandit with a war hammer ran at me, seemingly expecting to take me down in one or two blows. As swift as the wind, I dashed forward with elven blades gleaming in the last rays of twilight. Without hesitation, I ran into the tower, yearning to eradicate these vermin.

"I'll take care of the bandits, you just search for things that might be useful," I whispered to Faendal without turning my head. There were at least two more bandits here, I can sense their lifeforce. One must be the leader. Creeping ahead with that knowledge in mind, I climbed the staircase silently, trying not to alert the Chief of my presence.

Unfortunately, my silence wasn't enough, as Faendal accidentally dropped a potion bottle. The glass containing a green liquid shattered on impact with the floor, the thick fluid oozing into the weathered stone and wood surface.

"What was that?" A gruff voice demanded. Personally, it sounded like an orc, yet the voice was less savage. Less like the ones that were a pestilence back home. Tensely, I continued to make my way up the stairs. There was a great big beast of a creature. It had dusky green skin, sharp tusk-like teeth jutting up from its lower jaw, and even from here it smelt utterly terrible. Like it hadn't bathed in an age.

The creature was kneeling over what looked like a human woman tied to the bed. From what I can tell, with the scent of salt in the air, it wasn't a consensual situation. The sight ignited my rage as I drew my blades and made myself known.

"What a pretty thing you are, too bad you're going to have to die." The Chief mused darkly, a wicked grin crept his face as he continued, "If you didn't manage to kill all of my underlings, I definitely would have captured you." This undoubtedly caused me to become a little irrational as I began shaking with rage. No one talks to me like that and gets to live. With eyes alight, I quickly leapt forward to finish him off quickly. The bandit managed to surprise me by blocking with a blade of his own.

"My guess was right, you are more enchanting the closer you get," The orc teased, the grin was still being held even in the face of possible death. Did he have a deathwish?

"If I were a younger orc... but alas this will be a good way to die." The Chief finished with a satisfied look on his ugly face. Well, that confirms my suspicions, at the very least. Pushing off of his jagged greatsword, I sank into a defensive stance silently. The orc just laughed and positioned himself aggressively. The two of us stood there silently for a moment, measuring each other up, looking for weaknesses.

The orc stepped forward suddenly, trying to startle me. I stood my ground. A dark, excited glint appeared in his eyes before he dashed forward, raising his greatsword. A quick dodge to the side caused the Chief to barely miss. I nearly gagged at the stench of this creature due to the proximity. Perhaps he never took a bath after all. We continued this dance for a small while. During of which, I saw Faendal creep past us to untie the woman and lead her to safety.

Upon knowing that the human was safe, I slightly relaxed and poured all the focus on my enemy. He was wearing a sort of iron armour. Yet from the amount of leather that was showing, it wouldn't protect him well from a precise strike of my blades. Formulating my plan, I continued to dodge his wide and powerful swings. I cannot allow that thing to hit me, or I will likely lose a limb. The Galadhrim generally do not wear much armour under our cloaks. I'm just thankful that my father managed to provide me with a light-weight chain vest for added protection before he sent me away.

On one of his swings, I struck a leather portion of his armour and sliced into him. He grunted in slight pain as my blades bit into the flesh of his stomach. Using this time given to me, I brought my other dagger across his arm, slicing deep. The Chief released his greatsword to swing at my face with his uninjured arm. Bracing myself for the hit, I managed to reduce the power of the blow by stepping backwards. Unfortunately, he still hit my jaw, causing it to crack audibly.

The two of us backed away from each other and held our injuries. The Orc Chief huffed in pain yet still had his bloodthirsty grin on his face. I cradled a the fracture with one hand after holstering a blade. If you suspected I was angry, you'd be mostly right. I was furious. The injury began swelling slightly and throbbing. Bruises were beginning to form. I haven't been hit like this in many centuries. To get caught and injured like this was humiliating, to say the least.

"What's wrong little elf, did I hurt your pretty face?" The Orc sneered, trying to taunt me into attacking him. Slowly I breathed, trying to calm myself down. With a cold expression in my eyes, I dashed forward to slice into his throat. He barely moved to try to stop me this time. The Orc didn't bother to hold his wound, quickly bleeding out. The Chief still had a content visage as he faded away. What a strange situation. What a strange orc. What a strange world I awoke in.

As I climbed down the steps, my thoughts overtook my attention. The orc seemed just as battle hungry as the ones I know of, yet he seemed as if he were a warrior of a different sort. In his mind, he must have thought the only good way to die was to die fighting, and that he died nobly by my blades.

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear these thoughts, I turned back to Faendal and the strange woman we rescued as they sat in the bottom portion of the tower. The wood elf was tending to her, trying to calm her down. She must have begun crying again. Faendal turned toward me in exasperation and worry.

"She hasn't said much, only that they took everything." He whispered to me. Slowly I crept toward the pair, trying not to startle the woman. She began to cease her sobs as I came into her view. Her gaze wandered over me, momentarily stopping on the blood stains that came from my battle with the orc. Gradually she began to relax and yawned meekly. Her time with the bandits must have drained her.

"What is your name?" I asked softly, trying not to startle her. She looked up into my eyes. Hers seemed to be a deep, clear green. A pang of homesickness washed over me. It was the same shade of green as the trees of my birth home in the summer.

"My name is Elswyth Mallon." She croaked out, trying to hide behind her matted dark brown hair. I slightly rose a dark eyebrow in interest. Faendal simply sat there, watching the exchange before offering his waterskin to the woman. She smiled gently in thanks and took gentle sips. Faendal has rather joyful now that our adventure took an interesting turn.

"My name is Faendal, I live down in Riverwood. My companion here is Linduin. I don't quite know exactly what he does, but my guess is that he's an adventurer of sorts. He's letting me tag along on his adventure up to Bleak Falls Barrow" The pale haired wood elf introduced. Elswyth looked up at him with a sort of pensive look.

"I was supposed to deliver a message to an innkeeper in Riverwood. I got ambushed on the road before I could make it." Elswyth cautiously said, unsure if she should trust us. The green-eyed woman began tearing up at the end of her words.

"I'm so glad you two rescued me." The young woman blurted out, tears falling. Her hands were grasping the ruined hem of what remains of her blue dress as she spoke. The only thing I wished to do was help her complete her journey to the small town below. The only thing stopping me from immediately doing so was a fierce flame that ignited in her eyes.

"If you are going into the Barrow, I'm coming with you," Elswyth stated, huffing stubbornly at the end of her words. Faendal had a worried look about him, mouth open to try and rebuff her request. I placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He glanced over at me in mild surprise.

"Are you able to defend yourself? I know not of what dangers await us in there. Faendal and I might not be able to save you in time if we encounter more trouble." I asked. Her eyes lit up and practically sparkled in the low candlelight.

"I'm a mage, so I can cast spells and try to help that way?" Elswyth replied hopefully in vigour, sensing that I was considering her wish. Contemplating this, I smiled and dipped my head in agreement. Standing up, I began to take off my dark woollen cape. Handing her the bundle of cloth, I gestured for her to wear it. The poor woman was slightly shivering through that whole conversation. Her feet were bare as well, perhaps we can loot a pair of boots for her. Elswyth glanced at me in gratitude and hurried to secure it. What was a short cape for me, draped nearly to her knees as she stood up to follow.

Soon the three of us made our way up the mountain more. The Barrow coming into view as it jutted up from beneath its snowy veil. Upon hearing the crunch of snow underfoot in the distance, I stopped. My companions soon followed my lead and readied themselves. Glancing at Elswyth from the corner of my eye, I saw a ball of swirling green light in her hands. Drawing my bow, I aimed toward the first bandit in sight. When the arrow met its mark, I strode forward. These were most likely just guards. If we dispatch them quickly, we won't alert the ones inside. Another bandit saw his comrade fall and let out a sound of panic.

Drawing his own bow, he pitifully tried firing on us. It was Faendal's arrow that snuffed his light out. There was only one more bandit that was alerted on the ancient stone terrace. He tried running at us with a battle cry, intending to attack us with his iron mace. He was quickly struck down by a flurry of my elven blades when he got close.

Cautiously, my companions and I climbed the steps towards a heavy metal door. Gently, I pushed myself against it, opening it just enough for us to slip inside. It was surprising when the door barely creaked as it moved. After closing the door, I stood silently, listening to voices from across the temple chamber. Two bandits were talking around a fire pit, oblivious to their new guests. Positioning myself to the side, I silently drew my bow and shot the male bandit. The female bandit let out a gasp of shock before she darted her head trying to find one who killed her associate.

"Where are you?!" She yelled out in anger and grief. Clumsily, the bandit notched an arrow into her bow then set out to find me. Without hesitation, I put an arrow through her heart.

Turning to my companions, I nodded to them to come out of the shadows. Striding towards the fire, I allowed them to rest nearby to warm up. Glancing around, I noticed a small chest. It was locked, but with a wave of my hand, I caused it to open. There wasn't much in it, the only notable things were a set of robes, a pair of boots, a note, and a spellbook. With my eyes widening slightly, I motioned Elswyth over. These must have been the rest of her things when she was taken prisoner. She almost brought to tears at the sight of them.

After giving Elswyth a moment to redress and gather her things, we continued on, deeper into the barrow. It was relatively quiet as we strolled through this musty place. There was practically nothing but stone, vines, and mildew in this place. The longer I stay down here, the more angsty I get. I never did too well in tight spaces underground. Even in the Woodland Kingdom, there weren't too many tight tunnels in the underground pathways of my old home. I still miss the trees, even more so down here.

I kept moving on ahead as Elswyth and Faendal made sure to not leave anything worth keeping lying in these tunnels. If I were buried deeper in my thoughts, I almost wouldn't have noticed a room up ahead with a bandit standing inside. Crouching, I watched him with a bow in hand. He didn't seem to notice as he walked toward a lever in front of an iron gate. What shocked me wasn't the fact that there was an obstacle in that room, but that the bandit was struck down by venomous darts ejected from hidden dispensers within the walls. A trap.

With curiosity driving me, I sauntered into the room to investigate why he died. Glancing around, I noticed there were three stones with animals adorning their sides. Looking above the door, there were more stones, but they didn't seem to be able to turn. It was a puzzle. My companions caught up to me as I was spinning the moveable stones to correspond with the sigils above the door. Faendal was curious about the room and started to ramble about 'Nordic Ruins' and their puzzles to protect their crypts. Elswyth was quiet in her awe as she just glanced around the room until her gaze fell onto the lever. I stepped up to it and pulled it back. The gate groaned as it rose up, clearing the way for us to continue.

Once we reached a rickety wooden stairway, we encountered a few very large rats. Admittedly, I slightly panicked and possibly overkilled the ones who went after me. I do not like rats. They are such filthy scoundrels, a far cry from the meek and gentle mouse.

After collecting whatever we could, I decided to scout ahead slightly. I didn't have to go very far to hear a fearful voice call out if someone was near. Encountering a thick web of spider's silk blocking the way, I decided to wait for Faendal and Elswyth. Upon hearing their footsteps, I went to work on cutting away the blockage. Once inside the room, a large spider descended from the ceiling, cutting us off from a trapped bandit. I froze upon glancing it. Another reminder of my birth home. A rather cruel reminder, but one nonetheless.

With a fervour, I dashed to the arachnid with blades in hand. It tried to fight back as I sliced through its legs. It caught me by surprise as it spat a sticky glob at me, throwing me back and onto the ground. I struggled against it, feeling my strength drain quickly. If I didn't bring along Faendal, such a thing may have been the death of me.

Hearing a monstrous screech, I looked up from my position on the stone floor. Arrows and strange green magic struck the giant spider. My companions are going to be able to finish the abomination off. Relaxing in my bound position, I tried not to struggle more. Doing so seemed to only cause more fatigue.

Once the spider was dead, the bandit kept hollering on about getting cut down. Faendal and Elswyth ignored him as they cut me free from my energy-draining webbed confines. After brushing off the rest, I strode toward the dark-skinned elf bandit.

"Where is the Golden Claw?" I inquired him, my icy blue eyes sharp with a distinct lack of mercy. The elf tried to squirm away, webs containing him. My gaze pinned him down until he managed to summon enough courage to speak.

"Yes, the claw. I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the Hall of Stories. I know how they all fit together!" He managed to defiantly squeak out before struggling against the webs again. With an eyebrow raised, I urged him to continue.

"Help me down, and I'll show you. You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden there." He said, hoping to tempt me. I indeed was interested, but I will not trust a bandit. I slowly began to cut him down. It was a little difficult with him squirming still. Once he got loose enough, I immediately grasped his shoulder to keep him from bolting. Feeling him tense beneath my hand was pleasant. It also confirmed my feelings towards not trusting vagabonds.

"You will not run. You will lead us there. No tricks." I growled warningly. The bandit gulped frightfully and nearly broke out in a cold sweat before nodding vigorously. Slowly I released him and gently pushed him forward. He slowly began to lead us down the crypt and its tunnels. It was when we reached the catacomb-like portion that I tensed up. Drawing my daggers, I crept forward cautiously. It smells of death and dark magic in here. I do not like this.

The corpse nearest to the bandit began rising from its shelf, battle-axe in hand. The poor elf didn't stand a chance as he froze with fear. When he tried to run away the undead creature it buried its axe deeply into his retreating back with a loud crack. A thick tension hung in the air as the creature turned to me and my companions with a burning hatred in its glowing blue eyes.

It tried to run at us. I managed to block its first strike, holding it still for a moment. Faendal took the time to draw his bow and ready a shot. When I made his mark clearer by moving to the side, he buried an arrow into the undead's skull, killing it instantly. The sound of the corpse woke two others. Was this place filled with these things? I certainly hope not.

The fight wore on as I distracted the undead while Faendal struck them down with arrows. Elswyth used magic to heal and protect me from the surprisingly strong blows from these creatures. Once the small horde was slain, Faendal and I took a moment to rest. Elswyth began looking the bandit's body. She managed to find the Golden Claw and his journal. It appears he was called Arvel the Swift. Such a title was quite laughable since he would not run from me or death by the undead. In the common tongue, it is called 'irony' if I recall correctly. The Eldar have a different word for it of course, but that isn't the point.

The three of us slowly made our way further into the catacombs, weary of more undead creatures. I believe Faendal mentioned they were called 'Draugr' at some point. On the next level of the crypt, more Draugr rose to greet us violently, we replied in kind, swiftly dispatching them of their unnatural lifeforce. Once they were slain, I inspected the room. The entrance to the next portion was guarded by swinging axes. What sort of horrible place is this?! Who needs traps like this to guard their dead? Or even undead in a place where the dead are supposed to rest? I will likely never understand this nor the world I found myself waking up in.

Glaring long and hard at the swinging blades, I readied myself to run through, to dodge them. A soft hand on my shoulder stopped my plan. Elswyth shook her head and stood in front of me, charging up a sort of magic. When she stopped channelling her magic, she became a cloud of smoke, passing through the dangerous trap without so much as a scratch. When Elswyth reverted to her human form, she pulled a chain on the other side, stopping and pulling up the swinging axes. Clever woman.

We continued on, slaying the undead we come across and gathering things that may become useful to us in the future. It wasn't long until we found ourselves in a chamber with a waterfall and a stone bridge. Unfortunately, no one could enjoy the sight as a Draugr forced its way out of a stone sarcophagus.

A few arrows and a near decapitation via daggers later, the three of us were finally alone. Elswyth made her way to the chest to loot it. Faendal pulled the chain to lift the gate to the next area. I simply stood there with my eyes closed, allowing the sound of the underground waterfall wash over my senses. For a moment, I can imagine that I'm sitting near the lagoon that is deep in Lorien. It was a relaxing thought, I enjoyed it while it lasted until Faendal softly called me out of my mind.

"Are you okay?" He asked, a worried look in his eye. Faendal can practically sense the homesickness rolling off of me. A curt nod and a ghost of a smile told him all he needed. I followed him and our mage companion into a cave. Glowing mushrooms adorned the cavern walls in some places. The waterfall from the previous room gently flowed into a stream here. It gurgled as it made its way down another waterfall. There must be quite a few underground streams in this cave, as there was another waterfall above us, adding to the larger flow.

Another chest was in sight, and Elswyth all but ran to it. I stood at the edge of the waterfall's peak to gaze below. Another Draugr was patrolling a snow-covered stone bridge suspended above a watery pit. I readied my bow and took the undead creature down. We don't need more obstacles in our way.

With a silent huff, I turned back to my companions. They were digging through the chest. Faendal managed to obtain a new bow for himself and some leather armour. Elswyth found a few gemstones, grinning as she pondered on how much they would sell for in Whiterun. I might ask her to continue with me there. She has proven herself a worthy ally so far. We just have to see after our respective quests in Riverwood are completed.

Following the path down to the bridge, I lead the way again. Faendal and Elswyth glanced around. The mage stilled and then made her way down a path to the waterfall's end. A victorious sound emitted from her. Most likely she found another chest. As happy as I am with her obtaining valuable items that we can either use or sell, the constant stopping is wearing on my patience. Faendal turned to me with an apologetic expression before walking down to assist our mage friend. The two returned with bright grins on their faces. Faendal pulled out a thick circlet with a magical glow to it.

"What is this?" I asked him, accepting the headpiece.

"It's a circlet of archery. It basically causes your arrows to become more deadly. We also found a ring of magic resist and a ring of one-hand. Figured you would find some use for them." Elswyth replied from behind a book she found. It had a strange symbol of a tree on the cover, so I'm guessing it is a spellbook of some sort.

Nodding and mumbling a word of thanks, I placed the circlet on my head. A warm hum of power soared through me. I wonder what sort of magic enchanted this? I might consider learning it if I have the time. With my companions looking pleased that I accepted the enchanted headwear, we continued on through the tunnels.

There was another Draugr guarding a large wooden door in sight. It seemed different from the others somehow. I gestured for Faendal and Elswyth to walk more carefully as I readied my bow, eager to test the circlet's power. As I drew back the string, I felt the hum of power vibrate through my being, seemingly adding to the bow's power. Upon release, the arrow struck the undead in the neck. It didn't completely snuff out its unnatural lifeforce, but it definitely weakened it. Notching another arrow, I let it fly to finish it off. From my guess, the Draugr had more constitution compared to the others. Might be the reasoning as to why it was guarding the door.

With the coast clear, I jogged up to the door. This was becoming quite an adventure now, and I was becoming eager to continue. The way was quite for a while, short of my companions talking behind me about random subjects. Currently, they decided to debate methods of what types of wood might influence staff making. Faendal had his ideas based on a woodcutter's perspective while Elswyth had her magic based one. It would have been interesting to listen to if the sound of swinging blades drew my attention. Another swinging axe trap I bet.

Sighing, I interrupted the discussion by informing the two of the situation. Elswyth lit up with another chance to use her magic. Once she appeared on the other side and pulled the chain, the sounds of more Draugr struck fear within her as she froze in place. She clearly wasn't used to direct confrontations, especially since she doesn't carry a weapon.

Faendal and I ran through the cleared path to try and protect her. Sweeping in front of her, I blocked the incoming battleaxe blow. It wasn't a perfect parry, as he managed to strike with more force than I was prepared for. Wincing, I directed his axe to the side before kicking him back. Once he was on the ground, I leapt over to bury my daggers deep into his neck.

An arrow grazed my arm after I slain the undead abomination under me. Ignoring the way the small wound bled, I drew my bow, aiming for another Draugr on a stone ledge above us. I saw another Draugr following the undead archer. Intent on killing the archer first, I released my arrow into his skull. Faendal was quick to dispatch the axe-wielding Draugr as I began notching another arrow.

After noting the silence in the room, we continued on through the crypt to a wooden door. When opened, it lead to a hall with carvings on either side. This must be the Hall of Stories that Arvel mentioned. Upon reaching the end to a large metal door with a puzzle build into it, my eyes were drawn to the strange keyhole. It had a claw engraving into it. A moment of realisation came over me as I turned to Elswyth and asked for the Golden Claw. She must have come to the same conclusion as I did and handed it over.

I inspected the door further, paying attention to the rotating parts of the door. A glance down at the claw revealed the same icons as the door, but in a different orientation. This must be the code. Quickly spinning the parts into the right order, I placed the Claw into the keyhole. Turning my head to Faendal and Elswyth, I made sure they were ready for a possible fight. We don't know what is behind this door, and I don't want our mage to freeze up again if they manage to pass me. We don't have time for her to fall into shock from a repeat experience as before, or Faendal would have to carry her while I defend them. That would make this entire situation that much more difficult.

Seeing the two eager and prepared to fight calmed some of my worries as I turned the Claw, opening the puzzle door. It slid down, allowing us to pass.

The sight in this chamber was awe inspiring. Waterfalls and streams came together underneath an earthen and stone platform. On which was a curved wall. It practically called to me, almost urging me into a trance as I walked over to it, mesmerised. My sight darkened and some of the etching within the wall began to glow. I stood there as a strange wind emerged from the surface and into me. It hummed with power and I relished it. My trance only being broken by the sound of a sarcophagus busting open.

Quickly turning towards the metallic coffin, I drew out my blades. A strong presence emerged and I tensed as its unnaturally glowing eyes landed on me. It spoke some guttural words and I was pushed back slightly. What was that? Faendal shot an arrow into the back of the undead creature's skull. It didn't even slow the thing's approach, or turn its attention. The Draugr's focus was purely on me as it lifted its battleaxe. As it brought it down, I dove out of the way.

Figuring that it would be slow, I tried diving in and out, slicing it with my daggers. Hearing the sound of a spell forming, I backed away just as a ball of green magic flew towards the undead being. It managed to distract it as sharp biting leaves swirled around it, cutting away at its leathery skin. The spell didn't last very long as it kneeled, lifting its head towards me again. When it got back up, it tried charging at me again. This time I managed to sidestep and thrust my blades into its spine, slaying it at last.

The three of us let out a breath of relief as it fell. Elswyth went directly to the chest nearby, intent on emptying it of its contents. Faendal searched through the shelves near the sarcophagus. I strode up to the metal coffin and glanced inside. There was a strange stone tablet with a similar carving as the wall along the bottom of it. Stars were carved into it, which I found rather curious. It looked like a map of sorts. Without much preamble, I picked it up and tucked it into my bag. It may be worth taking. My intuition is demanding it.

The rest of our journey through this crypt was relatively uneventful. There were one chest and a memorial with a skull as the centrepiece. Not much to really notice anyway. We soon found an exit lit by moonlight. A brisk breeze blew in, reminding us of our location. I just hope there isn't a cliff on the other end of that. Or some beast ready to kill us.

I need a bath.

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Hey guys thanks for reading this pilot chapter of "The Gray Folk" It took a rather long time to write, but I had a very insistent plot bunny that demanded it. It's nagging me to continue but having 9k+ words for a first chapter is perhaps all I can stand to write for tonight. ~Tinn aka Mask

Edit: I fixed the inconsistencies and such that were bugging me, I honestly need a beta or for myself to not instantly post things after a long night of writing… Anyway, don't forget to leave a review, it's nice getting some feedback, encourage, and constructive criticism from you guys. I know for sure I need to check my pacing, I'm not comfortable with it at the moment.

On another note, the next chapter is almost halfway done. I completed the storyboarding for it and several character analysis and similar tools to keep track of everything going on in the plot. That includes my being a total nerd and making a DnD chart for Linduin, Elswyth, and a character that is going to be appearing in the 3-4th chapters ;) Stay tuned!


	2. Chapter 2: A Bond and a Newcomer

**Disclaimer: I only own the characters you don't recognize from any media except this. :^)  
**  
 **Some yummy news from Mask:  
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Guess who isn't dead! This chapter, regardless of its ~5k words here, it actually took a lot of planning and research. As a result, the subsequent chapters will be much quicker coming out and be approximately this chapter's length and the first chapter's length. Hurray! At least I know what to do with this writing pet of mine! :D

Anyway, I figured you all needed something from me by now. I had a hard time focusing on writing and was very busy in addition to the planning and research that I just mentioned. Feels bad man. I also have a few more literary tricks up my sleeves. That and I'm also writing a novel AND a short-story collection in addition to my fanfictions. That and I am completely overhauling _The Chronicles._ Will be fairly busy with all this, especially since I over think things. Like the poison mentioned in this chapter. Yeah, I researched the living oblivion out of it to make sure that it is plausible in either Vanilla or a mod that was lore-friendly. I am such a tryhard. :^)

 **In response to Reviews:**

CapriciousFan

I'm quite glad you like my longest chapter I've ever written! Every review like this makes me quite happy, even if I don't usually respond to them. For now on I'll make an effort to respond to each unique one. As for the crossover situation, I do find it strange how there aren't more of these. I actually expected more. The themes just go together so well... Also if you like Faendal, I believe you will love him more by the end of this. Not foreshadowing or anything. :^)

All the wonderful people who have subscribed

Over the whole time that I was scheming, yes I said _scheming_ , I kept getting email notifications from ff net informing me of how many people were liking this story and giving it lots of attention. This makes me so happy and fueled me intent to get this story properly outlined and written. I meticulously check grammar, spelling, continuity and development to make sure I give you guys the best story I can possibly type out. I hope you guys like this installment, as I'm dedicating this chapter to you guys. 3

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The way back to Riverwood was annoying, to say the least. The three of us had to manage to descend from a mountainous crag. Elswyth had nearly fallen. Would have broken her legs too if she did. It was a good thing Faendal and I kept her between us.

Yet, we managed to safely get to town. Elswyth said she was going to meet us back at the inn to treat us to a drink. I am definitely counting on her to keep her word. Apparently, the message she was delivering was rather important and had a large payout to match.

Faendal offered to pay for soaps and bathing supplies for Elswyth and I. It was a grand offer considering she was utterly filthy and I was nonverbally complaining about my own state of uncleanliness. Our mage companion merely grinned at the suggestion before walking to the Sleeping Giant Inn.

Remembering Lucan and wanting his Golden Claw back, I made my way to Riverwood Trader to return it. The tanned shopkeeper lit up when I placed the ornament on the counter.

"You found it? Hahaha. There it is. Strange, it seems smaller than I remember. Funny thing, huh?" Lucan chattered on, nervously trailing toward the end. He looked relieved nonetheless. It must have meant a lot to him.

"I'm going to put this back where it belongs. I'll never forget this. You've done a great thing for me and my sister." The man continued, praising freely.

"You remember our deal? The one about a small amount of travelling supplies?" I calmly asked him, patiently waiting. Lucan's eyes gained a gleam of remembrance as he crouched to reach beneath his counter. After a few moments of shuffling things around, he placed a large leather bag on the wooden surface.

"It has some dried meats, a few preserved vegetables, a bedroll, and I threw in a book and some septims just in case." The shopkeeper said with mild enthusiasm in his voice.

"An Imperial always pays his debts. You are welcome back anytime, friend! I'm certain Camilla would be interested to hear about your travels." Lucan beamed as I accepted the bag.

After giving my thanks and a grateful smile to the two Imperials, I made my way to the inn. Before I walked up the steps, a blonde haired man leaned against the railing and glared at me.

"I hope you aren't trying to vie for Camilla's affections, Elf. It's bad enough that the other elf is interested. I don't need more competition." He spat, trying to threaten me. I raised a lazy eyebrow in contempt. Did this man honestly believe I would become infatuated with a human? I barely have interacted with her. Besides, I know that my father would definitely not approve. It wasn't worth bonding yourself to a being who only lives a mere moment in an elf's life.

"Are you so insecure as to believe everyone is interested in courting that particular human?" I sneered, my morning slowly souring at the interaction. Not daring to breathe too deeply, as I can smell his stench. I haven't even taken a bath yet, and this human managed to still smell worse than me. The blonde glowered even more before silencing himself. He must have finally realized my disinterest. Didn't stop him from detesting me nonetheless.

I quickly made my way inside the inn. The warmth of the fire in the centre of the largest room of the building greeted me kindly. A grumpy looking man stood behind the only bar, he was being nagged by an older blonde woman about some alcohol going bad. The man just grumbled out his replies to her and looked up to me. He straightened up after realizing I entered his domain.

"Hello there traveller, can I offer you some food or drink?" He called out hopefully, most likely out of boredom. The man introduced himself as Orgnar and that he was the barkeeper. I asked where Elswyth was before he could recommend anything and his smile faded slightly. After gesturing to a room on the right, I saw Elswyth inside reading her strange looking book. It was the same one she found in the Barrow.

"What are you reading?" I suddenly ask. She jumped slightly at her broken concentration, perhaps not even hearing my approach. Elswyth smiled up at me before marking her spot in the tome before placing it on a side table.

"It's a spellbook from the school of Alteration. This particular one lets me learn 'Ironflesh' apparently. Neat, huh? Back in the dungeon, I used 'Stoneflesh' on you to make you take less damage." She explained to me happily. I was slightly lost, but I did notice how my jerkin was almost able to bounce blows before it could hit my chain-vest. Perhaps that was it.

"I only truly know the magic used by my people. Even then when it is used the situation must be dire. Such power is only used wisely and takes a great toll on the caster." I explained when Elswyth glanced at me with a questioning expression.

"Unfortunately for my father, I wasn't very talented at it."

We ended up talking about the differences between Elven magic from back home and the magic of this world, which I finally realized was named Nirn. The continent is apparently called Tamriel. I should have paid more attention to the human General before I left for Riverwood.

"I bought the soaps and cloths you two needed." Faendal said when he approached the room with a basket full of bathing supplies in hand. We quieted our discussion on healing magic when he spoke. Elswyth beamed at the aspect of a good bath, she turned her gaze over to me with a question written on her slightly dirt-smudged face.

"There is only one bathing tub. Do you want to use it first?"

Taking a moment to think I answered, "It would be rude of me to not allow a maiden to bathe first. I insist that I go second." Elswyth's expression turned to one that spelt out stubbornness. She was not going to let me go after her.

"I really wouldn't mind going second, honest!" She implored me with her big green eyes. Another pang of homelessness ran through me as I gazed into those deep leafy shaded orbs. With my home on the mind, I suddenly came upon an idea.

"How about you use the tub, and I bathe upstream. I prefer the colder waters. It wouldn't be an issue." I said with a charming smile, intending to make her agree. Elswyth seemed to slightly melt under the sight. She sighed slightly with a small blush on her face.

"As long as you promise to come back so I can treat you to that drink, alright?" Elswyth countered before making her way to the door. She grabbed a bar of soap, a washcloth, and a linen towel on the way out. Faendal stood there with a knowing expression on his smirking face. Oh boy.

"You know, I could have just let you use my bathing tub. But since you insisted on using the river, I may as well use it myself." The pale haired elf teased playfully, setting down the basket to gather his own supplies. He waved briefly before strolling out the door, laughing at my momentary misery.

Setting down my travel pack, I leaned against the doorframe to watch him leave. I made a rather graceless huff of displeasure before grabbing the basket and making my way out the inn door.

It was a bit past midday when I looked up at the slightly cloudy blue sky. It was a nice day. Perfect for a decent bath. I hummed to myself as I practically pranced through the west gate of the small town. Taking in the fresh scent of nature, I began to relax the first time since I woke up here. It may not be home, but it is remarkably peaceful.

I found a nicely secluded portion of the river that was out of sight of the road and had a gentler current. Taking note of the three strange carved stones by the side of the road, I slowly made my way down to the bank and set down the basket. After taking off my gray jerkin, I decided it would be best to wash my clothing first. It would be easier for me if they were clean and dry by the time I finish. Happily stripping down, I waded into the river with clothes and soap in hand.

It didn't take long to wash all the dirt and filth from my Galadhrim uniform. There were a few portions where I had to wash some particularly stubborn patches. A quick sniff confirmed that it was blood and bits of spiderweb. Horrible combination. Especially considering the ease that giant spider managed to pin me down and drain my energy. Shuddering at the thought, I waded back to the shore to arrange my clothing to dry on some flat rocks. Perfect spot indeed.

When I waded waist-deep into the river, I noticed that I was being watched. Two sets of eyes were upon me that I can sense. Human eyes. On both banks. Turning my head behind me toward one voyeur, I spotted a blushing Camilla freeze from behind a tree when she realized she was spotted. Slowly the Imperial woman backed away and ran off to Riverwood. Raising my eyebrow at that, I decided not to question it. Camilla did show interest and from the way she had acted when suggesting she be my guide, her brother tries to shelter her the best he can.

Sighing at my thoughts of blushing maidens and their curiosity, I returned to my much-needed bath. Dismissing the other voyeur as an admirer from the lack of hostile feelings I could sense from them.

It took a good hour or two before I was finally clean. Most of that time was detangling my hair from all I've been through so far. So many twigs, leaves, bits of dirt, and blood managed to find their way there over the past two days. To think that was in my silken hair horrifies me deeply. I'm just glad to be clean at last. With a smile on my face, I collect the cleaning supplies and dressed. Faendal had some reasonably good taste. The soap actually smelled better than I expected. Would expect nothing less from an elf.

Gazing up at the sky I realized that I did take around two hours to clean up. Smiling on the way back, I spot a deer running on the other side of the river. If I close my eyes, I can almost believe that I'm back home. Almost.

Quickly I sauntered up to the Inn steps, avoiding most of the townsfolk on the path there. Might be best if Camilla, Lucan, or even that one blonde man that rudely accused me earlier to not see me right now. Orgnar just quietly waved in greeting on my entrance before turning to a book he apparently was reading on the counter. Before I completely passed the counter on my way to Elswyth's rented room, I read the cover: Song of the Alchemist. Interesting.

A wonderfully clean Elswyth sat on her bed with the spellbook in hand once again. Deciding not to spook her again, I knocked on the door frame. She looked up from the tome with a gentle smile on her face, her expression turning to surprise when she examined me.

"Wow, you clean up really nicely!" She exclaimed, eyes widening. Elswyth tucked some of her long wavy hair behind an ear before patting beside her on the bed, motioning me to sit. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, or rather more specifically her ears. She sat there watching my stare for a small while before she poked my jaw, reminding me of my recent injury. Seeing my flinch, she gasped behind her hand after she realized what she did.

"Did he end up breaking your jaw? Or are your bruises still hurting?" Elswyth asked, her fingers hovering over the remainder of my injury from the Bandit Chief. I grasped her hand and slowly massaged it to avoid worrying her when I mentioned he only fractured it. Her eyebrows furrowed in additional concern. Suddenly she stood up and walked over to the bar. After whispering a request to Orgnar, he reached into the shelves beneath the counter and handed her a small bundle of wheat, an orange mushroom, and a small glass bottle filled with water.

After handing him a few golden coins, Elswyth walked over to a strange object sitting on a table. It had a few pits in it filled with what looked like a glowing green liquid from my vantage point against the doorframe. She quickly pulverized the wheat into a fine dust and minced the mushroom before putting them both into the little water-filled vessel. It bubbled for a moment as she swirled the bottle, attempting it to mix and combine faster. When she stopped, it rested on a bright and clear red. The colour of poppies and a blood moon.

With a small satisfied smile, Elswyth walked back over to me and sat down on the bed. She began handing me the bottle and said to drink it. I looked at her with a strong sense of skepticism.

"I'm not trying to poison you, it's a simple potion of healing. Nearly everyone knows how to make one." Elswyth said with her smile turning into a grin. Sighing, I took the bottle and took a gentle sniff. It didn't smell as bad as one would think. Just the smell of fresh bread and an earthy musk. Figuring that I had nothing to really lose, I brought the bottle to my lips and tried drinking the entire thing by chugging.

Almost gagging at the thickness of the solution, I had to stop halfway and take deep breaths. Elswyth lightly laughed and chastised me for trying to gulp it down so quickly. After giving her a side glare, I quickly finished the potion off. That was then when I realized a warm tingling sensation in my jaw and arms. It was strongest where the Orc had punched me. The cut I had from the Draugr firing upon me was closing quickly with the same sensation. The soreness from the battles within the Barrow was melting away with the warmth.

Once the feeling subsided, I ran my fingers across the side of my face where the bruises used to be. No tenderness what so ever. It was as if I was never injured.

Turning to Elswyth, she saw my silent question in my eyes, "I'm guessing you haven't drunk a potion like that, huh?" She silently laughed behind her grin at the shake of my head.

Focusing back on her, I was silent for a moment while I tried to form the words to ask her why she looked different from the elves and humans I have come across so far.

We sat awkwardly like that until Faendal came back to the rented room. He looked distraught and heartbroken, as if someone killed his prized pony or something similar.

"By the Great Spirits, Faendal. Are you alright?" Elswyth exclaimed as she stood, stepping forward to lead him to the chair next to the bed. The wood-elf's eyes were glistening with unshed tears when he turned his gaze up to her. Faendal closed them to clear his vision before he began to speak.

"I saw Camilla run back through the gates after I was heading back to the Inn. She had a furious flush on her face as she made her way to her brother's store. So naturally, I followed her to know what was going on and possibly calm her down." He took a ragged breath before continuing, "I managed to stop her before she entered the shop. She tried to convince me to let her go, but I just couldn't. Eventually, Camilla stopped struggling and nearly blurted out everything." Faendal's voice turned slightly sour as he looked up at me.

"Apparently she followed you and watched you wash your clothing and prepare to bathe. She just couldn't resist it. Most everyone in Riverwood has told me she is willing to bed any man or mer that come through this town just to spite her brother." The wood-elf buried his face in his hands, Elswyth placing her hands on his shoulders and letting him lean on her while she stroked his hair.

"I never thought the rumours were true. Only just realizing now she was playing both me and Sven. I truly was blind." Faendal ended, silently sobbing against our mage companion. I couldn't move, could barely breathe. It was a difficult thing watching an elf, especially an ellon, break down and cry like this.

Sucking down my pity, I turned to him, "Faendal, maybe you should let her go? Especially now that you know the truth about her." Taking a breath, I continued, "My father had a wise phrase for situations like this to protect me and my older brother."

"Those of Man live short lives and often have even shorter senses of honour and patience. It isn't worth bonding yourself to such a being when you have some much more to live for." I recited, remembering a story my father used to tell me.

Looking up, I saw that Faendal stopped sobbing and was drying his eyes. He gazed up with a look of sorrow on his face. The wood elf's eyes were filled with a glimmer of acceptance. Slowly he nodded and sat up in his seat.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Elswyth clapped her hands once and fixed her eyes on me with a mischievous glint sparkling brightly.

"How about we get really drunk and I'll tell you two a secret of mine?" This caught our attention. Faendal still had a sad look about him but muttered that he could use a drink. Elswyth just smiled and pat the poor elf on the shoulder.

The three of us sat in Elswyth's rented room eating, drinking, and laughing. Faendal managed to cheer up after a few tankards full of mead. It wasn't long until we all started telling stories from our pasts.

"I don't like to brag, but I once took down a bear at three hundred yards. In a blizzard." Faendal bragged before taking a big gulp of his mead. Quite sure that is his tenth tankard, and he's already quite drunk. What a lightweight. Elswyth turned to me and motioned for me to tell a story. Sighing, I complied.

"Back when I was a young elfling learning to use a bow, my brother was standing back to supervise me. Well, unfortunately, my father was walking a little too close to my target while talking to an elf from one of the other Great Elven Lands. Long story short, I accidentally shot him in the shoulder." I said plainly before taking a sip of mead. Faendal burst out laughing while Elswyth kept her gaze on me.

"Was he angry with you?" She asked softly, her eyes wide. Faendal slowly eased his boisterous laughing down to mere soft giggles. He seemed curious as well.

"He merely walked up to me with a small smile, placed his palm on the top of my head and said, 'At least you hit something this time, my son. Even if that something was me.'" My two companions started loudly laughing again at my words. Chuckling myself, I took another sip. That was the day my brother swore never to train me so close to the halls of our home. I felt a pang of homesickness at the recollection. Sighing into my drink, I tried to push the thoughts back.

"Oh, I suppose I'm supposed to go again, right?" Elswyth said suddenly, giggling slightly. Smiling, she began her story, "Well my mum was a sort of druid. Which considering she was half Bosmer and half Breton, it wasn't too surprising." She paused for a moment to take a sip of her drink before continuing, "So she often communed with nature spirits. Then one fine and lovely spring evening, my mum stumbled upon an elegant and regal looking Spriggan." Elswyth puffed up proudly while speaking. She looked fairly regal herself.

"Turns out she met my 'father' so to speak. After a decade or two of each other's company, they decided to try to have a child of sorts. So my mum did rituals and pleaded to Merida for help. Lady Merida was happy to see two beings so deeply and spiritually connected with each other that she was willing to gift my parents with a child. Me." Elswyth said softly, tracing a finger along the rim of her mug.

"My mum was really happy when she gave birth to me. Said the moment she laid eyes on me she knew I was special." Elswyth paused momentarily before taking a sip of her mead. Her smile faded into a pained frown.

"It was hard for us when our encampment was attacked. My mother and I were visiting the nearby city of Falkreath to trade. When we returned..." Elswyth's eyes started tearing up. Faendal made a move to console her, but I was quicker, drawing her sobbing head to my chest. She cried for a moment before calming herself down, wiping away some of the tears. Elswyth stayed close to my chest, listening to my heartbeat, I assume.

"When we returned home, it was razed to the ground. My father was nowhere to be seen and the only thing that was left behind were hagraven feathers. We knew then that he was taken,"

"Mother and I were not strong enough to go after them, we didn't have the coin to hire adventurers either. It was the worst day of my life." Elswyth started tearing up again and buried her head in my chest. Calmly, I placed a hand on the back of her head in an attempt to console her. Situations like this aren't my forte. I normally don't know what to do in events like these, I just act on instinct.

The three of us sat there in that rented room in Riverwood for quite a while. We simply just drank and enjoyed each other's company. This was the closest I've felt with the two. Hell, the closest I've felt with anyone in a long time other than my family and my mentor.

* * *

Not far from the hamlet of Riverwood, an unknown witch bustled about her cabin. She appeared to be quite enthused about something, borderline excited.

"Such a beautiful and divine creature... a faerie such as that must be kept. So many possibilities." The witch gushed as she went over her alchemy supplies once again. Exclaiming after she found her ingredients, she practically skipped over to her alchemy table. Damp air from the cellar around her practically clung to her mage robe.

"Now if I remember correctly, faeries resist poison. Perhaps a strong paralytic mixed with confusion will suffice. Cannot stint with this." The witch said forebodingly, mixing her concoction. Humming, she let the mixture boil and thicken. It was to be used on a bolt, after all, thickening increases the chance of capture.

With a sinister grin upon the witch's face, she raised the filled potion bottle to eye level. Setting it down, she went to grab a simple wood-and-iron crossbow bolt from her cupboard. Dipping it into the bottle, the mixture seemed to absorb into the metal, imbuing it with its malicious powers.

"Perfect." The witch whispered, setting down her now empty potion bottle and poisoned bolt. Picking up her bolt, she carefully wrapped it in a small bundle of leather and tucked it into her waistband. On the way out of her alchemy cellar, she grabs a small healing potion, just in case.

It wasn't very long of a walk, Riverwood was close to her cabin. Good thing, too. The more rare potion ingredients can sometimes be hard to find in good condition. Orgnar is good for that, at least. The witch paused, thinking to herself.

"If he isn't some sort of faerie, then what am I supposed to do with him?" Scoffing, she ended up convincing herself that there was no chance that majestic creature wasn't some sort of faerie or divine creature.

"Now, if I remember correctly, faeries cannot resist moonlight. Legends do say they are drawn like moths to a flame..."

The witch glanced upward at the sky. Masser and Secunda were both full and bright tonight. Perfect. He has to wander out tonight, so much moonlight is shining that he cannot resist.

* * *

After a few more drinks, Faendal announced he was going to go home and sleep. It was strange that elves here sleep like those of man. I suppose I should get used to this place. Who knows when I will be able to return home? To see my father and brother again? Or even just the Greenwood...

"Do you want a room here? Because I am getting tired and I'm not used to having someone, especially someone I just met, sleep near me." Elswyth asked, pulling me from my thoughts. I shook my head and excused myself. Closing the door, I smiled to myself. Giving a respectful nod to a very tired Orgnar, I made my way to the front door.

It was a beautiful night. Skyrim's strange two moons shone brightly in the star-strewn sky. The North's multi-coloured aurora shimmering like ribbons of pure star-fire above me. It has been so long since I have been as far north to see such a sight. Too long.

Making my way over to the mill, I stopped for a moment. A sense of foreboding washed over my senses. Shaking them off, I tried to reason with myself. I was armed and perfectly capable of defending myself. Taking a breath, I waded across the small river to a fallen log on the other side.

The area looked secluded enough to muse over my predicament. Oh, what a predicament it was. Not only did I wake up in a strange world, almost was arrested, fought a dragon... I also discovered that there were people here that need help. One shouldn't have to suffer dragon-fire as my people had. As my father had.

Humming to myself, I came to my decision. Considering I was the only one here that has fought against a dragon, it would be my honour to assist these people. Even the rude ones. However, if they continue being a nuisance, I may have to deal with them myself.

Gazing up at the moons of this strange land, a feeling of homesickness washed over me suddenly like a tidal wave. Feeling like an elfling again, I fought back the tears at the dark thoughts trying to overcome my mind. Thoughts of never seeing my father again, or my older brother, or even our home.

After a small while, silently sobbing to myself in the dark of night, I began to feel a deep, burning determination start inside my heart. When I start something, I always plan to finish it. If I managed to find my way here, I will find my way back.

Raising my head toward the sky, my eyes caught sight of the stars. The Constellations were different. This distracted me back to some dark thoughts before I shook them off once again. This merely brings an opportunity for discovery and adventure.

As the second son, I was very unlikely to gain the titles from Father after he stepped down and sailed West. Regardless of the fact that I was better at politics than my elder brother ever was. Therefore my title was to be his steward, to advise him in all he didn't know or understand. When I finally go home, perhaps I will have many a story to tell and much wisdom to give. With a light smile at that, I quietly began to sing in low tones. Not of anything special, just a song from home.

After singing a few songs, the moons of Tamriel were high in the sky. It was peaceful. Perhaps I can get used to all of this. The sheer amount of time until my brother actually needs my council gives me plenty to spend here. This would be interesting. With that thought, I leaned back and hummed to myself.

That feeling of foreboding came back. Even stronger than before. Before I could even react, my leg was impaled with a crossbow bolt. Were there orc-scum here? They would be the only ones I know of that use them. That was when I felt it. The poison coating the tip, of which is currently sticking out of my calf.

Delirium began to set in as my panic did. Trying to stand up to run away was a grave mistake as my muscles locked up. Similar to the feeling of that binding or paralytic spell that hit me when I first came to this strange realm. Falling to my side, I struggled to move, to try to fight this poison. All I could do was tremble from the deep confusion and fear overwhelming my senses.

The final image I saw before blacking out from the delirium was a pair of soft black leather boots and the bottom of a blue robe.

The final thing I heard was the voice of an old woman


End file.
